The metaphor of the raft

One of the most well-known and profound teachings of the Buddha is the metaphor of the raft, found in the Alagaddūpama Sutta (Majjhima Nikāya 22). In this parable, the Buddha describes a man who comes to a dangerous river, full of swift currents and hazards. In order to cross safely, he constructs a raft from available materials and successfully reaches the far shore. Once across, he realises that carrying the raft further would be unnecessary and burdensome.

The Buddha uses this image to illustrate the function of his teachings. The Dhamma — the raft — is a skillful means to cross the flood of suffering (dukkha). Its purpose is not to be clung to, worshipped, or carried indefinitely, but to serve as a vehicle for liberation. Once freedom is attained, attachment even to the teachings themselves must be relinquished.

This metaphor warns against two common pitfalls: attachment to views (diṭṭhi) and spiritual materialism. Even wholesome teachings, if rigidly grasped, can become obstacles when mistaken for ultimate truth. The path must be applied skillfully, but not reified into dogma or identity.

The raft also reminds practitioners to maintain humility. The teachings are provisional, designed to address the conditioned mind’s delusions. True wisdom lies not in accumulating doctrines, but in realising their purpose: the direct experience of non-clinging and the end of suffering.

Ultimately, the Dhamma functions as a compassionate guide — not an ideology to defend, but a raft to leave behind once the other shore is reached.

“You should abandon even the teachings, let alone things contrary to the teachings.”
— Majjhima Nikāya 22